Montford boasts collection of Western accessory

Published: Sunday, October 25, 1998

WILLIAM KERNSA-J Entertainment Editor

Those stereotyping John T. Montford with a staid, buttoned-down persona are to be forgiven. This, after all, is a former Lubbock County District Attorney and Texas State Senator who continues to make headlines as Texas Tech's first chancellor, a man committed to raising not only money, but standards.

Even during a brief photography session at his home, he declined to doff his coat and tie, explaining that he was expecting guests soon.

During those rare moments when Montford actually finds time to loosen his tie and talk about his passions Southwestern lore and his personal collection of spurs the kid in this mid-50s success story comes to light.

Montford is one of many who fantasized as youths about becoming cowboys. ''I love the lore of the West,'' he mentioned. ''I always admired the culture and, as I got older, I began to admire makers of saddles, bits and spurs.''

His may be the only chancellor's office graced not only by Western art, but also a saddle and a display case holding spurs.

He switches directions midway through the interview and explained, ''This just came back to me. I'll tell you when I really became interested in collecting spurs. It was when I first visited the Will Rogers Museum. It had to have been around 1950. I was very young. I saw these Chilean spurs that he (Rogers) had picked up during his travels.

''I told myself, 'If he can collect this stuff, then I can collect this stuff, too.' ''

Montford just never realized how easily a person can become hooked on collecting.

Oh sure, he went through stages of collecting other items. For a time, he concentrated on collecting stamps. Baseball cards? You bet. Model airplanes? Of course.

And, he added, ''In hindsight, I did keep so much stuff, but I wish I had all those Batman comic books from when I was a kid.

''On the other hand, that may be one reason I kept collecting spurs. Unlike baseball cards, spurs are pretty much indestructible.''

Even his first pair of spurs was not made of plastic, as city folks might expect.

He was but 5 or 6 years old when he received them in 1949, a gift from his uncle C.T. Montford, who had purchased them at St. Clair Department Store in Muleshoe (the exact site where Joe's Boots stands today).

Montford's family had been ranchers, and he admired those spurs with the big Conchos so much that he never lost sight of them.

In fact, they are one of many pairs from Montford's collection on display through Jan. 3 at the Ranching Heritage Center in a prestigious exhibit called ''Artistry of the Heel: Spur Makers and Collectors.''

Not that Montford ever really strived to make those fantasies of becoming a cowboy come true. Oh, he rode for a long while, and accurately described the arrival of the spur as ''like inventing a throttle for a horse.''

He has even owned horses but, of late, he explained with a big smile, a personality conflict has raised its ugly head between him and the animals. There was, after all, the horse he used to ride in the valley north of Lubbock near the County Line restaurant.

''He threw me and then took off.''

Another grin appeared. ''I got so tired of chasing him ... it was lucky I wasn't armed.''

One might assume that spurs are easier to control, but for the fact that every collector recognizes when a hobby is getting out of hand and Montford was keeping spurs in three residences, including his office and this was even after he donated 70 pairs to the Museum of Texas Tech in 1976.

He didn't even catalog his collection until 1976. Asked where he displayed his spurs, he shrugged and said, ''I kept them on coffee tables, in drawers, wherever there was room.''

Mind you, Montford began collecting before spur artistry truly was recognized and often is ''staggered'' by the value of spurs he purchased during his days as a young attorney. He bought so many spurs during those years that now he wonders whether he himself helped drive up their value.

And he agreed that his wife, Debbie, has show remarkable patience with his hobby.

Although even she had her limits, culminating on that day in the early 1970s recalled by Montford as his most embarrassing moment. He was about to board a Braniff flight. Rather than check them in baggage, he had ''a bagful'' of Chilean spurs that he described as ''the ones with those big, wicked, sharp rowels.'' Lubbock International Airport only had one metal detector a quarter century ago, but it had no trouble detecting the steel and silver in Montford's carry-on bag.

How did Debbie react?

''As I recall,'' said Montford, ''she picked up her bag and denied any connection with me.''

Carrying spurs whose rowels might be mistaken as enlarged versions of martial arts fighting stars, Montford was lucky that he was flying out of Lubbock and not O'Hare in Chicago or LaGuardia in New York.

Braniff's security officials handed him his bag of spurs and told him to have a nice flight, although Montford recalls being perturbed at the fellow behind him in line who said, ''Hey buddy, where's your whip?''

What goes around comes around. Montford also recalled an incident that occurred during his tenure as Lubbock's district attorney. J. Evetts Haley, author of the definitive Charlie Goodnight biography, was ''nailed at the Lubbock airport when they found an antique pistol in his belongings. It was a real old pistol, and he was taking it home to his ranch. I declined to fine him or detain him.

''... I did receive a letter from him later. He thanked me and also said he thought that the fourth amendment 'is a pretty good one.' ''

Montford still admires spurs as much for their artistic as utilitarian nature, and he hasn't stopped his pursuit. Just last week, he asked that inquiries be translated into Spanish so he could track down spurs in Chile and Portugal. That said, he's come to the conclusion that his collection deserves to be seen by everyone and he plans to donate it to Tech, most likely either the Ranching Heritage Center or the Southwest Collection.

''I'm not even going to claim a tax deduction at all,'' he said, noting that he had taken one after his 1976 donation to the museum.

The ''Artistry of the Heel: Spur Makers and Collectors'' exhibit already has gained international attention. Montford noted that a few well-known Western enthusiasts have called and asked if he would like them to donate spurs. ''I tell them, 'Hell, yes,' '' said Montford with a chuckle.

Yet Montford is dead serious about Tech eventually developing one of the top two or three spur collections in the world. On the one hand, he wants a collection depicting the history of spurs and the artisans who made them. On the other, he'd like an accompanying collection of spurs donated by celebrities.

No, he has not always gotten what he wanted; he was unsuccessful, for example, in his attempt to purchase Dwight Huber's collection of heavy Mexican spurs from what was then West Texas State University.

And he longs to obtain spurs that were worn or collected by John Wayne, Gene Autry and Roy Rogers, the problem being that there are museums already being operated in the names of those now deceased actors.

Not that he's giving up.

He's not built that way.

Full of stories, Montford mentioned yet another one of his many spur-searching expeditions that led him to a very old, but charred, pair. ''I found out that they had been burned in the Dodge City fire of 1891.''

He appeared more than a tad proud when he declared, ''So I got those, too.''

But one wonders if Montford can bring himself to part with a pair of spurs that have sentimental value. While a senator, he and a group of associates and their wives went skiing in Utah. They visited an unforgettable store in Park City. One doesn't forget seeing Hopalong Cassidy's original pistols priced at $100,000.

Montford, however, was drawn to one of several pairs of spurs designed by Tom Mix.

He admired them; he couldn't afford them.

Two years later, at the end of a senatorial session, those associates presented that same pair of spurs to Montford as a gift. ''They must have taken up a collection to buy them; it meant a great deal to me that my fellow senators felt I was deserving of such a gift.''